‘Go and get dressed while I fetch everyone a drink,’ said Ron with a loving pat on her bottom. He grinned and winked at Charlie. ‘Come on, wee boy, let’s raid the bar.’

‘Before you do that, can I telephone the others to let them know?’

‘Of course. You didn’t have to ask, Peggy girl,’ he said expansively before clumping down the stairs with Charlie and the dogs.

By the time Cordelia arrived with Bertie, Danuta and Stanislaw, the party had moved down to the bar and was in full swing. Daisy and her little cousins were dressing the patient and rather long-suffering dogs in doll’s clothes while Joseph slept in his pram. Betty, Rosie, Anne and Doris had taken over the bar stools, while the men tried to outdo each other with their war stories as they huddled over their beers in the corner by the inglenook. Rosie had thought to ring Gloria so she could celebrate not only Jim’s homecoming but the new baby, and she’d bumped into Jack who’d been on his way to Beach View, so of course he’d joined in.

Peggy was delightfully squiffy from all the gin she’d had as she tried to maintain her balance on the bar stool and sing along to Gloria’s enthusiastic piano playing. She loved these people so much, her heart was full. And soon – very soon – her Jim would be home and life would be complete again.

Doris woke that Monday morning with a thumping headache. She groaned as she climbed out of the empty bed and went into the bathroom in search of some aspirin. John was already up and about and didn’t appear to be suffering at all, but drinking in the afternoon had never agreed with Doris, and she regretted having got rather too much into the swing of things yesterday.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror – an unedifying sight – and splashed cold water onto her face in the hope it might improve things. It didn’t, but by the time she’d cleaned her teeth, brushed her hair and dressed for the day, the aspirin had started working and she’d begun to feel somewhat better.

‘I’m sorry, John, but I really can’t face a fried egg this morning,’ she said, pushing the plate away. ‘I’ll just have this tea and a slice of toast.’

John grinned and set about demolishing her breakfast, despite the fact he’d already eaten his own. ‘It was a good party, wasn’t it? I’m sorry you’re not the full ticket this morning.’

‘It’s my own fault, John. I should never have tried to match Gloria drink for drink. That woman must have the constitution of a navvy.’

John chuckled as he cleared the dishes. ‘She’s been in the pub trade for years, so you shouldn’t be surprised.’ He patted her hand. ‘Stay at home this morning, Doris. I can cope in the office on my own.’

‘But you have that appointment in town this morning,’ she reminded him. ‘And actually, I think I’d rather go into work than mope around here. The walk there should blow some of the cobwebs away.’